Nostalgie

I stare blankly into hollow sicked emptiness as I slip out of my nightdress. I have to be naked for what I am about to do. Softly, I opened the door and stepped out of the room. The warm rush of air is waiting for me, shielding me from the night chill.

The tile floor of the shower room was slippery and cold but, within seconds, it seemed to warm beneath my bare feet. I turned on the shower spigot and adjusted the spray so the temperature was just right. I hastily stepped into the stream of water, letting it rinse over my body luxuriously. I grimaced, but only for the slightest second, then watched in fascination as the water swirled – deep red, suddenly, toward the engulfing drain.

Oh, I also cut the other wrist open, let the razor fall from my hand. It clattered to the tiles like the cackling laughter that echoed in my brain. The voices I hear from the back of my mind has showed me what to do. I could never have ended my life without them. Now, they are taunting me, making a mockery of my obedience, but I was far gone to care.

As my life’s blood ebbed from my veins, pouring in a rush toward the shower drain, my body lied down the tiled wall toward extinction. So hopelesslyscrawny, he appeared to the figure in the doorway as if I myself might slip away, disappearing into the shower drain forever.

He smiled at the pathetically comic sight. The image of that vicious smile – the last thing I ever saw, would be imprinted deep in my soul forever.